


we live for one another.

by acciobellarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Linctavia - Freeform, Memori - Freeform, Multi, Slow Burn, Wellven, basically banter and fluff, enemies to friends to best friends to lovers, minty, probably some angst too, the 100 hogwarts au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciobellarke/pseuds/acciobellarke
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke have loathed one another from the moment they met when they were merely eleven years old. Six years later, and nothing has changed. Except for that they're falling in love.





	1. kids are gonna do what they want.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever fic on AO3 so be aware that I have no idea what I'm doing.

Students hurried among the ancient halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in a gleam of robes and scarves. Indistinguishable chatter filled the courtyards and roars of laughter echoed down the winding staircases. The entire castle was alive with the joy of the students and the professors. However, each and every one of them was turning a blind eye to the war raging on outside those safe castle walls.  

On the first floor, hidden between high shelves of miscellaneous books, was seventh-year Clarke Griffin, leaning over an ancient copy of a Charms textbook. Her golden hair cascaded down her back and her oceanic blue eyes scanned the pages with fascination. She was perfectly content and in her own little world, her desire for further knowledge encouraging her to continue reading, until the bane of her existence turned the corner in a flash of scarlet and gold untidy robes and an arrogant smirk. Clarke's skin began to itch the second she felt his presence and she did her best to simply ignore Bellamy Blake. 

"Hey Princess," he greeted. Without looking up, Clarke could tell he was leaning against the bookcase with his arms folded smugly. 

"Blake," she responded curtly. 

"I know you're clearly busy with all your friends," Clarke finally looked up at him to send him a glare, "but if you have time to spare, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the corridor."

Clarke rolled her eyes and returned her gaze back to her book. "I'm not falling for another one of your and Miller's dumb pranks, Bellamy."

Bellamy groaned. "C'mon Princess, you're no fun."

"No, I just don't find your childish pranks amusing," she retorted. "Besides, I'm expecting company any minute now."

As if on cue, the younger Blake (or more commonly known by Clarke as 'the better Blake') rounded the corner, winded and spilling apologies. Octavia dropped her books onto the desk beside Clarke's and glanced between the two of them. She noticed Clarke's irritated and amused expression and her brother's tightened jaw. She huffed. 

"Good thing I got here before one of you tore the other's throat out," she remarked. 

 _Good thing you're facing away from your brother and he can't see the hickey on your neck,_ Clarke thought. 

Just as Bellamy was about to turn away in defeat, an arm was slung lazily around his shoulders. He looked to his side to see Miller beaming. 

"Princess didn't fall for it huh?" he asked Bellamy. 

"For the twenty-second time? No."

"The twenty-fourth actually," Clarke corrected. 

Bellamy bought his hand to his heart and feigned gratitude. "You've been counting Princess? I knew you cared."

"Yes, I counted each time that the two of you have attempted to pull the same mediocre prank on me and managed only to be irritating and an inconvenience. Don't flatter yourself."

Bellamy and Miller were stumped at that. Clarke was maintaining a straight face. Octavia was smirking. The boys took that as their cue to leave, and begrudgingly left the library in defeat. 

Clarke honestly forgets sometimes why she hates Bellamy so much. Sometimes all she can recall is that her hatred for him burns deeper than the deepest and darkest pits of hell, and that even the mere thought of him makes her skin crawl and blood boil. However, when she really thinks about it, she can remember why she loathes him so much. It began in first year, outside the Great Hall before their sorting ceremony. Bellamy had recognised her from an article in The Daily Prophet about her family, more specifically her mother, who is a doctor at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Neither of them could remember exactly what the article was about, but the gist of it was; Clarke's family was powerful, privileged and rich beyond belief, and as a young wizard who came from a struggling, broken family, Bellamy envied her. He had called her out in front of the entire year, claiming that she was a 'princess' and that he wouldn't be surprised if she was sorted into Slytherin, where all the Death Eaters belonged. It didn't help that only a few minutes later she _was_ sorted into Slytherin. Bellamy's rant had made it impossible to make any friends for a couple of years, and as he was popular and constantly surrounded by a group of genuine friends, it was only natural for her to reciprocate his envy and hatred. Hence, their years-long rival was well known amongst the school. The two of them being chosen as Head Boy and Head Girl together only put more competitive fuel to their fire. 

 _You only have to put up with him for one more year, and then you never have to see him again,_ Clarke often reminded herself. 

Clarke didn't mind Bellamy's friends, such as Miller, Jasper and Monty, they were tolerable, and in Monty and Miller's case, slightly more mature. And as a bonus, they looked past Clarke's privileged life and treated her like an actual human being, which was more than she could say for Bellamy. 

And then there was Octavia, Bellamy's sweet (whilst simultaneously badass) younger sister. The two hadn't met until Clarke was in her third year and Octavia was in her second, but ever since then they had been inseparable. Clarke had been wary of her and had suspected that she might be as rude as Bellamy, but she had proved herself to be the nicer sibling. Much nicer. Clarke had the decency not to vent about her hatred for Bellamy around Octavia, considering they're very close siblings, but Octavia knew very well how Clarke truly felt about her beloved brother.

"We need to think of a new prank," Miller told Bellamy as they walked through the first floor corridor. Tiny first years scurried to the side to let them through.

Bellamy shook his head thoughtfully. "The Princess is getting too smart for them."

"Are you ever going to call her Clarke?" Miller asked.

"No," he answered quickly, "calling her by her name humanizes her, and I refuse to do that."

Miller shook his head in amusement and the pair continued on their way to the Gryffindor tower.

Back in the library, Octavia and Clarke had multiple rolls of parchment poured out in front of them and tattered books opened. They had shortly been joined by Wells Jaha, who had been eager to tell the girls about something hilarious that had happened in his previous lesson of Ancient Runes. After he had finished telling the story, the trio had been stifling laughs so as not to be removed from the library.

"Nice hickey by the way O," Clarke told Octavia once they had settled. Octavia's cheeks immediately flushed and she shoved Clarke with her foot.

"Shut up," she mumbled sheepishly.

"I wonder what your big brother would think about that," Wells added on, smirking. "If only someone were to... tell him."

Octavia's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

"What wouldn't Jaha do?" Raven asked as she wobbled around the corner, her bad leg weighing her down once again.

Clarke and Octavia didn't miss the way that Wells had straightened his Hufflepuff tie and how his dark brown eyes had lit up at the sight of the Latina. His crush on her had been blatantly obvious to everyone since fourth year, well, everyone except for Raven. His school boy crush had only grown after her accident. He wasn't grossed out by her brace, and instead he admired her strength and resilience even more. He was often caught watching her closely as she made her way up and down the endless staircases of Hogwarts, just so he could be sure that she wouldn't hurt herself. If only Raven could open her eyes and see that he was head-over-heels for her.

"Octavia has a hickey," Clarke answered, wiggling her eyebrows. Octavia whacked her on the shoulder lightly.

"Announce it to the whole bloody school why don't you," she hissed.

Raven laughed and leaned over to inspect the purple bruise on Octavia's neck. The young Gryffindor was doing her best to shove Raven away from her, but she was persistent.

"Damn, Lincoln knows what he's doing," Raven commented and moved away from Octavia to dump her stuff next to Wells, who looked down to hide his grin.

"You have no idea," Octavia mumbled with a smirk before the group continued to study.

They were an odd and unlikely group of friends, given that each of them were from one of the four different houses. Octavia belonged in Gryffindor for her daring and confident attitude. Raven was destined for Ravenclaw not just because her name made it the most ironic sorting ever, but because she was a genius. Wells had been sorted into Hufflepuff due to his kind heart and desire for a peaceful world, though it wouldn't have been surprising if he had been sorted into Slytherin for his ambition and superb leadership skills. Clarke could have been a Ravenclaw, but ultimately belonged in Slytherin, due to her own ambition and leadership qualities outweighing her Ravenclaw traits. Together, and with the addition of a few others such as Murphy, Harper, Anya and occasionally Monty and Jasper, they balanced one another out and had an extraordinary friendship.

It wasn't until it was nearly dark that the group was asked to leave the library due to being too loud. With red faces and stifled laughter, they packed away their stuff and returned their books and left the library in a hurry for dinner. By the time they turned into the Entrance Hall, there was a sea of students shuffling to get inside the Great Hall and get a seat beside their friends, and more importantly, get to their favourite meals before anyone else could snatch it from them. The group eventually entered the Great Hall and parted ways to sit with their houses. Clarke took a seat beside Murphy and across from Anya. 

"Do you understand any of the history homework?" Murphy asked the second she sat down.

"Hello to you too," she snapped. Murphy rolled his blue eyes. 

"Yes, hello Clarke, how was your day? I don't care," he rambled. Clarke shared a glance with Anya that was half amusement and half disbelief. Anya snorted and continued to devour her roast beef. 

Clarke began to fill her plate with vegetable and roast chicken, her personal favourite, as Murphy continued to rant about how stupid Professor Binns was for assigning them an essay when they hadn't been taught anything about the topic. 

"The point is that you have to research it Murphy," Anya told him. 

Murphy scoffed. "I don't have time for that."

"Yes you do, napping does not count as an extra-curricular," Clarke argued. 

"Quidditch trials are coming up, so I'm training for that too! I can't miss out on my final year!" he defended. 

"Murphy, you're the team captain," Clarke reminded him. 

Defeated, Murphy muttered "whatever," into his cup of pumpkin juice and dropped the subject. The entirety of the remainder of dinner he spent sparing lingering glances down the Slytherin table. Anya and Clarke instantly knew who he was looking at. Emori, a shy, quiet, loner who Murphy had fancied since second year. How Murphy had been pining after the same girl for five years and barely spoken to her, Clarke had no idea. The blonde sighed. 

"You know you could just speak to her," Clarke told him. It took Murphy a few moment to realise Clarke had addressed him, and he finally tore his eyes from the girl with the long, dark hair. 

"Hmm?" he hummed quizzically. Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Speak to her," Clarke repeated as though she was speaking to a toddler.

Murphy quickly got flustered, a blush creeping up his pale skin to his cheeks. He refused meeting Clarke or Anya's gaze and suddenly seemed to think that his cold food was the most interesting thing in the world. He shook his head viciously, rejecting the idea.

Clarke sighed. "Fine, if you won't do it, I will," she told him with determination. 

Murphy's head snapped up. "Wait what?" he asked anxiously, his eyes following Clarke as she rose from her seat and headed towards Emori. Murphy dropped his head into his hands in humiliation and Anya laughed at him, clearly enjoying it. 

"I hate both of you," Murphy mumbled into his hands. 

Clarke returned promptly with Emori beside her, who sat in the space beside Murphy, who was bright red and refusing to look at her. 

"Emori, you know Murphy right?" Clarke asked. 

Emori nodded. "We've only been in the same house and classes for six years," she joked. It was obvious she didn't know what to say, given that she was normally left alone, or with her younger brother Otan. Anya and Clarke laughed lightly in response and Murphy received a harsh kick under the table from Clarke. He winced and sent her a glare. She widened her eyes and looked from him, to Emori, then back to him. He took a deep breath and managed to turn to Emori and flash her a sheepish smile, which she returned shyly. 

"Hey, do any of you understand Professor Binns homework?" she asked. Murphy's eyes lit up. 

"Oh thank god!" he exclaimed, a little too loud. Emori looked at him in shock. Murphy winced at his own volume but quickly recovered. "Sorry, it's just that these two have been pretending it's so easy and it's clearly ridiculous!"

Emori laughed and Muprhy's heart leaped at the realisation that he had caused it. 

"We told you all you had to do was research it," Anya reminded him. 

Emori shrugged. "I don't have the time for that."

"Oh, do you do an extra-curricular?" Clarke questioned. 

"Nah, I just prefer to nap," Emori responded. 

Anya and Clarke shared a knowing look whilst Murphy tried to fight back his grin, ultimately failing. The rest of their exchange went smoothly, and Anya and Clarke only had to provide them with new conversation topics once. By the time they finally decided to leave the Great Hall, Emori and Murphy were chatting non-stop and walking side by side on their way to the dungeons. Clarke and Anya had dropped back subtly to give them some time on their own. The girls entered the Entrance Hall the same moment Bellamy and Jasper did, and Clarke rolled her eyes the second she noticed him. Bellamy smirked once he spotted her and immediately prepared himself to mock her. 

"You know what I find ironic Jasper?" Bellamy asked loudly, clearly trying to gain Clarke's attention. "That the princess sleeps in the dungeons," he finished, joining Jasper in laughter. 

 _Two can play at that game_ , Clarke thought, and smirked to herself. 

Noticing Clarke's smirk, Anya prepared herself for some incredible banter. It was sometimes exhausting watching Bellamy and Clarke every time they were within ten feet of one another, but it was also entertaining enough to make it bearable. 

"You know what I hate Anya?" she asked loudly. "Arrogant and childish Gryffindors who think they're the kings of the school."

Across the empty hall, Bellamy snorted. Clarke turned around fixed a cold glare on him.

"What do you want Blake?" she snapped.

Bellamy shrugged nonchalantly and took a step towards her. "I just want to know how much your mother had to pay Dumbledore to put you as Head Girl."

Clarke almost jinxed him then and there. Her mother was a tough subject for her, and being accused of her success being only because of her mother's status was the worst, especially from Bellamy since he had no idea what he was talking about. She managed to refrain from pulling her wand on him and smiled falsely.

"I'm actually curious myself to know how much butterbeer Dumbledore had consumed when he chose _you_ as Head Boy," she retorted, taking a step closer. Bellamy stepped closer too, so that he had to crane his neck downwards to meet her glare. Both of their jaws were tight and their fists clenched at their sides. Jasper and Anya were looking between them anxiously, each afraid for their friend's life in the next few seconds. 

Bellamy opened his mouth to say something equally as rude back, but was stopped by a croaky voice shouting at them.

"You kids get to bed right now!" Argus Filch crowed at them from the top of the stairs, his fluffy and debatably evil cat cradled in his bony arms.

Bellamy and Clarke quickly stepped away from each other and the four of them chorused a "yes sir" before hurrying their separate ways. 

Clarke rambled aimlessly to Anya about her hatred for Bellamy Blake the rest of the way to their common room, which was almost empty except for a few fifth years who were already hastily preparing for their O.W.L's. The  common room smelt musky, with an underlying scent of mint. The scent engulfed Clarke like a warm embrace and she subconsciously relaxed. The common room had that effect on her. Something about it felt more like home than her house in London with her mother did. She adored the silver and emerald decor and especially the plush that sat before the glowing, green fire. On the far wall from the entrance was a long window that revealed the deepest secrets hidden amongst the Black Lake. Occasionally a merfolk's shadow or the Giant Squid can be seen floating past. Despite the fact that many people believed Slytherin's to be evil, she loved the people in her house and she loved her common room, as it is the best home she has ever had.

Clarke and Anya made their ways to the their dormitory, too exhausted to even try do any homework. Clarke and Anya only shared their dorm with Emori and one other girl, Roma, who were both already sound asleep. The two remaining girls fell silent when they entered the room and silently changed into their pyjamas. They said their goodnights before slipping underneath their silk sheets. Clarke pulled the curtains across on her four-poster bed. She didn't appreciate the bright sunlight that woke her up when she didn't close her curtains. She cuddled into her blankets, which were still made of the softest fabric Clarke had ever felt.

She fell asleep reciting jinxes, and imagining in explicit detail how each one could harm Bellamy Blake.  

 

 

 


	2. white teeth teens are out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never Have I Ever reveals some hilarious anecdotes, Murphy and Emori can't focus in History of Magic and Clarke is furious at Bellamy. Same old, same old.

Bellamy was so relieved when Saturday finally rolled around. With the promise of very little homework and a sunny day, he was eager to spend the day on the sunny ground with his friends and little sister. Unfortunately, given that Octavia was coming, that meant she was bringing her friends, including Clarke. And he figured the princess would invite her own Slytherin friends and altogether there would be an excessive amount of people there and a fair amount of them Slytherin. He decided that he would do his best to ignore them, except Clarke, who he was going to do his best to rile up.

Bellamy left the Gryffindor Tower at ten o'clock alongside Jasper, Miller, Octavia and Harper. By the time they had finished the long journey through the castle and to the grounds it was half past ten. It seemed that many other had the same idea to spend the day outside, and there were many groups of friends basking in the sunlight and laughing. The group of Gryffindors were the first to arrive so they had the privilege of choosing their spot for the day. They chose a spot underneath a huge maple tree that provided them with plenty of shade, and it was far enough from everyone else to leave them with some sunlight for themselves. It was at the far end of the grounds, so far that it made the Gryffindor Tower look like a speck resting on the ginormous castle. They laid out their picnic blankets and picnic basket that contained several sandwiches prepared by the kind house elves and Octavia. 

Soon enough they were joined by more people. Lincoln, Monty and Brian arrived after them, Brian going directly over to Miller, who greeted him with a kiss. Monty made his way over to his best friend, Jasper, and the two were instantly immersed in their own little world consisting of mischievous shenanigans. Lincoln went to Octavia and greeted her with a sweet kiss on the cheek, though to Bellamy he may as well have been groping his little sister. He didn't like that Octavia was dating someone older than him, even if it was only by a few months. Miller and Octavia had reminded him constantly that Lincoln was a nice guy, who only had eyes for Octavia and wouldn't dare to hurt her, but Bellamy was protective and in his eyes, no one was good enough for his little sister. 

The Slytherins, Raven and Wells were last to arrive. It was the usual crew; Clarke, Anya and Murphy, but today they were joined by another girl with long, dark hair and bright eyes who spoke with Murphy animatedly. Raven was at the back of the group, struggling to walk downhill with her bad leg. Wells stopped and waited for her.

He actually didn’t mind Raven, she was funny and he respected how intelligent she was. She had helped Octavia out a lot in her third year when she was struggling with her school work, despite going through a lot in her personal life, so Bellamy was grateful for that.

His thoughts on Wells were conflicted. He had to admit that he was a very genuine, caring guy but he was the son of Thelonious Jaha, the Minister of Magic. He was like Clarke, privileged and rich, and given who his father is, he didn’t trust him. However that didn’t stop Octavia from befriending him. He wished he could be like her and look past certain aspects of a person, like their families or house and just befriend someone for who they are, but he had been raised to be careful and had always done his best to stop that rubbing off onto Octavia. At least that’s one thing he’s done right.

As for the Slytherins, he didn’t like any of them. Anya was cold and probably heartless, not to mention rude. Murphy was an arrogant jerk, and then there was Clarke. His reasons to hate her were endless. Even though the new girl with them seemed to be nice and enthusiastic, he suspected she would be just as bad.

Clarke shot him the expected glare before making her way to Octavia with an enthusiastic smile. When Octavia and Clarke had first become friends, Bellamy had to bite his tongue to stop himself from telling her that she couldn’t be friends with her. He had to remind herself that Octavia didn’t have many friends to begin with, and he couldn’t overstep his boundaries by telling her who she couldn’t be friends with, so he bit his tongue, forced a smile and simply told her, “She’s a bitch, but cool.”

Bellamy did his best to simply ignore Clarke and the rest of the Slytherin’s for the following hours, but every time he heard Clarke’s obnoxious laugh, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Jasper had been secretly counting each time. He was up to twenty-nine after only an hour, after that Jasper had given up.

The large group sat beneath the tree for hours in small groups that often rotated. Bellamy spent most of his time with Miller and Brian, who would get too lovey-dovey for his liking and he would be forced to move and listen in on Monty and Jasper’s crazy conversations. He was keeping a careful eye on Octavia and Lincoln the entire time, too. 

It was mid-afternoon when Octavia enthusiastically suggested they play ‘Never Have I Ever’. Bellamy had rolled his eyes but begrudgingly joined. He was a little worried that he was about to find out something about his little sister that he would rather not know, or vice-versa. The group sat in a big circle around the large picnic blanket, their hands raised and fingers spread. 

“Alright I’ll go first!” Raven insisted, all confidence. She cleared her throat. “Never have I ever… Injured myself trying to impress someone.”

To Bellamy’s surprise, four people lowered their fingers, one of them being Clarke, who was laughing at herself.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume it didn’t work anyway Princess?” Bellamy teased.

Clarke scoffed. “I seriously doubt you’ve never done it.”

Bellamy smirked. “I don’t need to try, everyone just falls for my charm instantly.”

Octavia and Clarke both scoffed at that one.

“I think Ms. Watts begs to differ,” Octavia remarked.

“Who is Ms. Watts?” Clarke asks eagerly.

“Our elderly next door neighbour. One time Bellamy-“ Octavia was cut off by Bellamy.

“That story isn’t necessary O!” he shouted.

The next few ‘never have I evers’ were aimed at getting Bellamy to explain the story with Ms. Watts. It wasn’t until Murphy said “never have I ever accidentally flashed an elderly woman” that Bellamy reluctantly lowered a finger with his head buried in his hands. Clarke could be heard laughing above the entire group. Bellamy looked up to see her clutching her side and fighting back tears of laughter.

Next was his turn and his goal was to humiliate Clarke as best he could. He had been thinking of something to achieve this the entire time they had been playing. He hoped he had thought of the perfect one.

“Never have I ever been caught making out in a broom closet by Professor McGonagall,” he said, looking directly at Clarke with a smirk. Clarke narrowed her eyes but lowered her final finger shamelessly.

It had been fifth year when Bellamy and Clarke were prefects, and both of them were definitely taking advantage of those privileges and staying out later than the rest of the student body. Bellamy had used his time to simply walk around the halls and think, or get an extra snack for Octavia from the house elves, but Clarke had had very different, and debatably scandalous, intentions. Bellamy and Minerva McGonagall had been standing in the Entrance Hall discussing the Transfiguration homework when they heard something clatter to the floor in the nearby broom closet. Overcome with curiosity, Minerva and Bellamy had opened it only to discover Clarke and a seventh year, Lexa, with their lips locked and hands wandering. McGonagall was surprised, and, with red cheeks, had sent Lexa and Clarke back to their dorms. Bellamy had simply stood behind her snickering.

The group immediately began questioning Clarke. _Who? When? Why?_ Clarke answered them all bluntly. Something was off about the way she answered them. Bellamy knew that Lexa and Clarke had broken up at the end of that year, when Lexa graduated, he figured she just didn’t enjoy talking about her any more than she had to.

“And I had the privilege of witnessing that discovery,” Bellamy boasted. “Poor Professor McGonagall almost fainted in shock,” he teased. He know that the woman wasn’t homophobic, but he also knew that it wasn’t exactly common for her to see two girls making out, especially in her time.

“And I wear that like a badge of honour,” Clarke retorted, bringing her hand to her chest proudly.

***

Murphy was barely awake. He zoned Professor Binns monotonous and wheezy voice out and rubbed at his itching eyes. His mind wandered far from the topic of Goblin Rebellions and he ultimately thought of Emori. They had been talking a lot lately, and Murphy’s spirits had lightened noticeably because of it. They were often found sitting side by side in front of the fire in the common room, or playing a game of chess (which Emori always won).

She was another reason Murphy couldn’t focus. Murphy was well aware that she was sitting right behind him, staring at the back of his head. It was nearing the end of the lesson when Murphy felt a light kick on the leg of his chair. He turned his head slightly to see Emori staring past him and subtly holding out a small piece of rolled up parchment for him. He quickly took it and turned back to the front. He unrolled it and scanned the neatly-scrawled words.

_You owe me a favour._

Murphy hurried to write a response. He didn’t even bother to be subtle, Binns would just assume he was taking notes. Murphy laughed silently at the thought of him actually taking notes and paying attention in this boring class.

_For what?_

Murphy rolled the piece of parchment up again and held it behind his back, keeping his eyes on the front. He felt Emori’s fingers brush his and take the parchment from between his fingers. He kept his hand there and waited for the parchment to be placed back in his fingers. When it was, he bought it back to his desk and read it.

_For practically writing your essay._

Murphy scoffed and responded.

_You wrote a paragraph and a half._

Murphy handed the note back to her and awaited her response, it being the only interesting thing in the class besides Anya making sassy remarks about Binns in the seat in front of him.

_An incredible, life-changing paragraph and a half. Nonetheless, you owe me a favour,_ was Emori’s response.

Murphy smiled to himself. Admittedly, it was a very good paragraph and a half. Far better than he could have done.

__Fine. What do you want?_ He wrote back._

Emori took a while to write back and Murphy started to become anxious. He worried that he had been too blunt or rude, which normally he wouldn’t care about, but he really didn’t want to screw up with Emori. Finally, Murphy felt Emori’s shaky hand brush his once again and he accepted the parchment. His heart leaped at the neat but now also shaky words written on the paper.

_A date?_

He couldn’t fight back his grin. He saw Professor Binns give him a confused glance, he must have looked too excited about the slaughter of 28 goblins that he was telling the class about. Murphy quickly wrote his response, but didn’t hand the parchment back until Binns dismissed the class. Murphy hurried to get his stuff together and stood up, turning around to hand Emori the parchment face-to-face. She was still sitting down and she nervously took the paper. Murphy felt bad for making her wait anxiously for his response. He didn’t wait for her to read it either, instead he left the classroom, walking through the halls with a grin so large that caused many more confused looks to be sent his way.

Emori unrolled the parchment, and written in messy, almost unreadable writing was; _Deal. Hogsmeade this weekend? I’ll meet you in the Common Room at 10 on Sunday._

Emori left the classroom with a grin matching Murphy’s and made her way to the common room. The first thing she noticed upon entering was Murphy leaving his dormitory, his grin having worn off slightly to a small smile, which turned into a knowing smirk when he met Emori’s gaze and noticed her bright grin.

The weekend couldn’t arrive fast enough for either of them.

***

Clarke was immersed in reading her letter as she hurried furiously out of the Owlery. It seemed every single letter she received from her mother lately only gave her another reason to despise her. Clarke didn’t even hear the other footsteps until she bumped into a hard chest.

Her rage only grew when she heard Bellamy’s irritation. “Geez Princess, watch where you’re going,” he commented.

Clarke didn’t even look up at him and simply rolled her eyes before pushing past him to leave. She didn’t have the energy to argue pointlessly with him. But he just couldn’t leave her be.

“Is that a letter from your mother, Princess? I bet it says something along the lines of ‘Oh I bought another house, but this was only has _two_ spas. How awful!’” he teased, using a ridiculously high voice to mock her mother. In any other circumstance and if it was anyone but Bellamy, she might have actually laughed at his attempt to impersonate her mother. It was vaguely accurate. However, she was in a foul mood, and once again, Bellamy had no idea what he was talking about.

“Shut up Bellamy,” she snapped.

Bellamy raised his eyebrow in surprise. “No snarky response? No equally devastating insult? Shit, the house must only have _one_ spa.”

Clarke had had enough. Her patience was scarce today. “Shut up Bellamy!” she shouted, stepping forward furiously and throwing her fists down, one clenching the letter. “You don’t know shit about my family!”

Bellamy blinked back in shock and his jaw went slack. In their whole six years of making fun of one another, pranking one another, and arguing with one another, he had never seen her this angry. Most of the time she was just irritated or fed up, but this was entirely different. This anger was genuine, and emotional, and clearly fuelled by something else entirely. He was stumped. Before he could recover from the shock of her outburst and (reluctantly) apologise or yell back at her, she had turned and stormed away from him, leaving him standing in his shock and surrounded by obnoxious, screeching owls.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I'm just going to write who is in what house, in case I forget to write it anywhere. 
> 
> GRYFFINDOR  
> Bellamy  
> Octavia  
> Jasper  
> Miller  
> Harper
> 
> SLYTHERIN  
> Clarke  
> Anya  
> Murphy   
> Emori  
> Lexa (formerly, she graduated two years ago)
> 
> HUFFLEPUFF  
> Lincoln   
> Wells  
> Brian  
> Finn (even though he hasn't been mentioned yet)  
> Luna (also hasn't been mentioned yet)  
> Maya (deceased, back story should come along)
> 
> RAVENCLAW  
> Raven  
> Monty


	3. all i can taste is this moment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia asks Lincoln about his future, Bellamy surprises Clarke and Murphy and Emori finally have their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is sort of terribly written, especially the last part and I'm pretty sure that I changed tense like a million times but hey I tried? looking at the computer has been making me feel dizzy lately so that probably doesn't help, but anyway enjoy this chapter.

Octavia took her time making her way to her next class. It was a Friday afternoon and all she wanted to do was laze around in the Gryffindor Common Room and cuddle by the fireplace with Lincoln. She was exhausted and knew that even when her final class of the week finished, she would still have a tonne of homework to complete that weekend. She turned another corner and recited her list of essays and assignments she had to work on. She was completely lost in her thoughts when she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her back into a hard chest. An involuntary squeal left her mouth but she instantly relaxed when she heard Lincoln's deep chuckle, and felt it vibrate through her. She smiled and let her head fall back onto his shoulder. He kissed her cheek.

"Hey," she giggled, sliding out of his arms to face him and wrap her arms behind his neck. His arms went to her waist and pulled her closer. 

"How do you feel about cutting class with me?" he asked with a smirk. She almost got lost in his dark brown eyes that weren't straying from her sparkling green ones. 

“Perhaps my brother is right and you are a bad influence on me,” she teased. He let out a short, airy laugh and placed a slow, gentle kiss on her lips.

“If anything you’re a bad influence on _me_ ,” he countered.

Octavia scoffed. “As if,” she said lowly before once again connecting their lips, this time being lustful. Lincoln responded gladly and managed to pull her even closer, his hands trailing to her hips. After a few long moments, he pulled back, breathing heavily and unable to tear his eyes away from Octavia’s perfect red lips.

“As much as I love this, we are in the middle of a corridor and we are supposed to be in class…” he reminded her.

Octavia sighed but understood and pulled away. She picked her bag up from the floor and shrugged it onto her shoulder. She didn’t remember dropping it, however. She bit her lip and looked up at Lincoln, who was smiling at her with admiration.

“What are you going to do after school Lincoln?” she asked softly. She’d asked before, and each time she was met with a joke of some sorts. Ultimately, she had never gotten a serious answer out of him. This time didn’t seem to be anything different.

“What are you talking about? I’ve already got the Minister of Magic job secured,” he replied, smiling goofily. His smile faded when he realised Octavia wasn’t laughing at his joke and was instead looking up at him with those doe eyes worriedly.

“I’m serious Linc,” she said quietly, unsure if Lincoln even wanted to talk about this.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You could play Quidditch,” she suggested, hoping that even suggesting something, anything, might get him seriously thinking about it. “You could try out for the National team, or even Ireland.”

“So that I could have a target painted on my back for Death Eaters?” he snapped. Octavia was taken aback, he never spoke to her with anything but gentle kindness. She could see that he immediately felt guilty, though. He sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, cupping her cheeks and pulling her close and placing a chaste kiss to her forehead. He rested his chin on the top of her small head. “O, there is nothing I can do in the wizarding world that won’t get me killed,” he whispered.

Octavia pulled back a little and looked up at him again with pleading eyes. “So what are you going to do?”

Lincoln pursed his lips. “Something safe. I’ll be an accountant or a teacher in some little muggle village or something,” he told her. Octavia’s shoulders fell.

“You deserve better than that,” she mumbled. Lincoln smiled softly.

He didn’t know yet, whether or not he loved her. They hadn’t been together long but with someone as incredible as Octavia, it wouldn’t take long. She was compassionate, daring, smart, funny, outgoing and loving. He loved how he felt around her. Like he was capable of anything, like he was deserving of anything, like he was safe. He was certainly starting to fall in love with her. But he wasn’t going to say it just yet.

“I’ll be okay,” he reassured her. “All I need is you.”

***

 _Finally_ , Murphy thought when he woke up on Sunday morning. He rolled out of bed immediately and didn’t waste a second in starting to get ready. He spent way too long on his hair. He realised he should probably get it cut. It was supposed to be colder than usual, and most likely rainy, so he wrapped himself up in his big coat and Slytherin scarf.

He waited for Emori by the fire for a while until Clarke came out of their dormitory and sat beside him.

“She’ll be out soon, she’s just trying to find her scarf,” she told him. Murphy nodded and rubbed his hands together in his lap. Clarke noticed.

“John Murphy are you nervous?” she asked, her amusement clear. Murphy shot her a glare and didn’t respond. Instead he focused the conversation on her.

“What’s got you so down lately?” he asked. He didn’t miss the way Clarke stiffened. She had hoped no one had noticed, but Murphy always did. They were close, and Clarke would definitely consider Murphy one of her best friends, and Clarke was absolutely Murphy’s best friend, but it was rare that they ever actually spoke about feelings. The last time they had been even remotely emotional was last year when Clarke had been woken in the middle of the night with the devastating news of her father’s death.

Murphy had watched her sob endlessly into Wells’ arms in the Slytherin Common Room. Wells had been allowed in to comfort her. Murphy had stood and watched helplessly until he decided enough was enough and he sat beside Clarke on the plush couch and gripped onto her hand in his attempt to comfort her. Eventually Wells had to leave, and Clarke clung to Murphy, and he silently held her as she continued to sob. Eventually she had fallen asleep in his arms (and drenched his t-shirt in her tears) and he picked her up and placed her back in her bed. He had kept a careful eye on her the next few weeks. They never really spoke about that night, but Clarke had expressed her gratitude through helping him actually pass sixth year.

Clarke sighed. “My mother is just being her usual selfish self,” she responded vaguely. She was glad when Emori finally emerged from the bedroom, wrapped in a big coat and her Slytherin scarf. Her usual grin was even wider than usual today, and she was buzzing with excitement. Clarke smiled at that way Murphy’s eyes lit up too as she stood up to greet her. He looked so happy, and God knows he deserved it.

***

Clarke had three essays due on Monday. So, logically, she was procrastinating. It wasn’t until late Sunday afternoon that Clarke finally left the common room for the Library. She stopped by the kitchens to charm the house elves into giving her a cupcake. She respectively listened to a timid, elderly elf as she fussed about how much preparation they were already doing for the upcoming Halloween feast next week. That reminded Clarke of the seventh year Halloween party next week. She still had to find a costume that was somehow both formal and spooky. She added that to her mental list of things she had to get done as soon as possible.

Clarke made her way through the quiet halls, picking at her chocolate cupcake. It was peaceful.

“Princess!” Peace ruined. Clarke stopped in her tracks and her jaw tightened. The boy couldn’t just let her eat a delicious cupcake in peace? She turned around to see Bellamy jogging to catch up with her. He stopped in front of her with a small, nervous smile. Nervous?

“What do you want Bellamy?” she asked bluntly. She hadn’t seen him since her outburst at the Owlery, and frankly, she could have done with never seeing him again. She refused to admit that she was embarrassed by how she had reacted. She told herself that she didn’t give a damn what Bellamy Blake thought of her.

Bellamy took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. “I wanted to… apologize,” he forced out.

Clarke blinked in shock. Surely she hadn’t heard that right. Bellamy Blake apologising to her? That was the stuff that myths were made of.

“Did Octavia tell you to?” she asked, concluding that if this was legitimate, it wasn’t by choice.

Bellamy shook his head. He was a little hurt that Clarke thought he wasn’t being genuine, but he could also see why she wouldn’t. In their whole six years of feuding, neither of them had once apologised, no matter how cruel it got. Clarke met his deep brown eyes and narrowed her own blue ones. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Are you under the Imperius Curse?” she questioned, growing wary.

Bellamy laughed, actually laughed. Not a smirk or a mocking laugh, a genuine, light, airy laugh. It almost, _almost_ put a smile on Clarke’s face.

“No,” he said. “I just genuinely wanted to apologize for the other day, at the Owlery. I shouldn’t have said anything about your family, I know I hate it when you do that.”

Clarke felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t realised how hypocritical she was being when she had yelled at Bellamy. She gave Bellamy just as much crap about his family, and it was arguably crueller than the things he says about hers. Clarke slowly nodded.

“But you were wrong when you said I don’t know shit about your family,” he said hesitantly. Admittedly, he was afraid he was about to get jinxed. Clarke eyes snapped to meet his, and they weren’t filled with fury, like he expected. They were full of curiosity and a strange softness. Bellamy felt it was safe to continue, but treaded lightly. “I know that your dad died last year, which obviously wouldn’t create the perfect family life.”

Clarke stiffened at the mention of her father. She thought about him every day, but rarely spoke about him. She couldn’t go a day without being reminded of his light smile and terrible jokes and strong embrace. She fought back tears. She would not cry in front of Bellamy.

“Yeah, it’s not the best,” she admitted hoarsely, refusing to look him in the eyes. A solemn silence ensued. “Thanks, for the apology,” she muttered.

“No problem,” he said awkwardly.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” Clarke reminded him. She managed to meet his gaze sternly once again.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Princess.”

***

Murphy and Emori shuffled into The Three Broomsticks with pale faces and shaking hands. They wiped their wet feet on the ragged welcome mat and hung their coats by the door, keeping their scarves on. The pub was crowded, as per usual. It was full of obnoxious drunks and irritated bartenders. It smelt musky and of beer and candlewax. Murphy loved this place. He led Emori through the crowd to a booth in the corner. He kept a hand on the small of her back as they weaved through the crowd, afraid he would lose her small body amongst the ones towering over them. They settled in the booth, and Emori shuffled closer to his warm body. It was definitely just for the fact that he was warm. Not the fact that he smelt of pine and firewood, or that even the slightest brush of his skin against hers sent shivers down her spine and ignited her blood. A waiter came by and took their order of two butterbeers. Emori began to fish coins out of her pocket.

“Nuh-uh, I’m paying ‘Mori,” Murphy told her.

“No it’s fine,” Emori insisted. Her heart skipped a beat when he called her ‘Mori’, like it was his own little pet name.

Murphy shook his head. “A gentleman always pays on the first date.”

Emori scoffed. “That is sexist bullshit,” she told him.

Murphy rolled his eyes, but secretly found it endearing. “Then just accept the free drink and let me be a nice guy damnit,” he teased.

Emori laughed and gave in, putting the coins back in her pockets. She knew Murphy was not always a ‘nice guy’, he’d been put in detention for picking fights more times than she’s gotten away from stealing from the kitchens (she always got away with it). She loved that he was trying so hard to impress her, even though he didn’t need to. Emori was already sold.

They spent over an hour in the pub, drinking butterbeers and slowly huddling closer. They talked aimlessly. Murphy asked her a lot of questions about her life. He learned that she has a little brother in fourth year (also a Slytherin). He learned that she wants to work with dragons in Romania. He learned that her favourite colour is green, because it reminds her of the Slytherin common room. He learned that she can’t draw to save her life. He learned that she smiles brightly and also speaks mostly in sarcasm. He learned that she would do anything for her brother, and speaks about him like he is the most important person in the world.

She tried to ask him questions about his life too. All she learned is that his first name is really John, and the only classes he actually enjoys are Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures.

They left the pub at mid-afternoon and walked through the wet streets of Hogsmeade. They did their best to stay undercover and stay dry, but Emori notices that Murphy keeps stepping in all the puddles.

stepping in all the puddles.

“Stop doing that,” she chastised. “You’re going to get your socks wet.”

Murphy sheepishly stopped and smiled at her. “Sorry, old habit.”

“From what?” she asked, hoping she would finally get something about his life out of him.

Murphy simply shrugged stoically. Emori sighed. He continued to ask her questions and keep the topic on her all the way to the hill overlooking The Shrieking Shack. Emori smiled at the view, causing Murphy to smile a lovesick smile at her. He desperately wanted to hold her hand, but he was starting to get scared. He was worried this would happen, that they would start to get close and be having a great time and Murphy would freeze up and grow afraid to get any closer.

They took in the view in a comfortable silence for a while until Emori quietly, shyly admitted that she’s an orphan. Murphy’s heart fell into his stomach. She doesn’t meet his gaze and instead looks anxious for him to say something. He could tell that wasn’t easy for her to say. She’s putting her heart on the line; the least he can do is try. His hand twitched beside him twice before he finally grabbed hers, intertwining their freezing hands. He swallowed nervously. His heart was pounding in his chest. He knew it was ridiculous, and that he shouldn’t be so scared.

“The puddle thing, it’s a habit from my father. I used to hate rainy days as a kid so he would try and make them more entertaining for me by jumping in puddles with me. It worked, I stopped complaining so much when it was raining and just jumped in the puddles. He died when I was nine,” he told her, forcing himself to look at her. (In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have to force himself.)

Emori looked up at him in surprise. She certainly wasn’t expecting that. She squeezed his hand that enveloped hers.

“My mother died when I was thirteen. She wasn’t the best mother, but I think I’ll tell you about her another time,” he said, offering her a smile.

Emori nodded in understanding. “Baby steps?” she asked. Murphy nodded. That’s exactly what he needed. To take it slow, he’s not used to opening up to people, and there’s a lot to tell Emori. There was a grateful and admiring smile on her face, and Murphy couldn’t help but move to cup her cheek, his other hand still intertwined with hers. He gently forced her to face him, and her eyes were wide with a mix of panic and excitement. His blue eyes scanned her face, taking in her soft cheeks, beautiful brown eyes and finally her perfect red lips before he met her eyes again.

 _Now or never_ , he thought before he leant forwards and placed his lips on hers gently.

She tasted like honey. Sweet, and warm. And her lips were really soft. And they were both smiling like fools into the kiss. Emori could feel her stomach doing backflips and she half worried that she will vomit into his mouth. She pushed the thoughts away and focused on kissing this incredible boy, who makes her heart light and makes her feel like she is more than just an orphan from Scotland.

Murphy is the first to reluctantly pull away. He doesn’t dare move his hand from her cheek and rested his forehead against hers. They meet eyes and laugh lightly. Murphy feels light headed, but in a good way. A really good way.

“I have been dreaming of doing that for years,” he admitted.

Emori smirks. “Then you have a lot of catching up to do,” she teased.

Murphy laughs again before hungrily reattaching their lips. They’re on the brink of a war but Murphy couldn’t be happier.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
